Lane Cove West 3,
12
April 2008, Blackman
Maybe
we’re getting picky. A few years ago, a 3-0 win would have been manna from
heaven. But something was missing today. The passion of last
week for a start.
A
lot of today was not good football. But, as with the tango, it takes two. Our
opponents lacked the skill and poise of last week’s and the better team got
dragged down a level.
But
still, look on the bright side. Think how bad we’d feel if we’d lost! And we
never really looked secure until the third goal went in, deep into the second
half. So, ugly as some of it was, we plugged away for the whole game, and came
away with a result which puts us second in the league: surprisingly, one of
only two teams to have won both opening games.
We
started well. Matt was playing his first game of the season, but showing no
signs of rust. Five minutes in, he sets off on a run down the left. Bob (I think
it was) slides the perfect pass in front of him, and Matt shoots. Quite a way
out and the goalkeeper has it covered. He catching it... yes he is… no he
isn’t… yes…no, he’s dropping it over the line behind him! 1-0.
This
should have settled us down but we still seemed jittery. The thing about the
offside ploy [have I been asleep, or is this a new ploy secretly hatched over
the close season?] is that four-fifths of one really doesn’t quite do it. You
need unanimous resolve and execution, and now and then it was a bit of a worry.
It also, of course, needs a linesman with more than an inkling of the rules.
Which our defence in the first half had (in Scott,
Howard’s friend; Scott, who spend his evenings pushing pins into models of each
of us in the hope that injuries will bring him a coveted place amongst us).
The
offside game also needs swift attention to the ball over the top or through.
Not too far into the game, one such eluded the defence,
and a goalward Greenwich forward found that it fell
nicely for him Very shortly after, he fell - rather less nicely - under a Howard tackle, of which the mildest
descriptor could be “clumsy”. Stronger words were heard from our opponents,
suggesting that sending off was the order of the moment.
Howard
later said that the thought now popped into his mind that the ref was Ivan;
whom Howard seemed to remember having sent off on a similar occasion not so
long ago; a recollection which he suspected that Ivan might share. But wise,
compassionate Ivan had seen that (as Howard assured us later) Howard had
actually slipped into the tackle, rather than intending it, and that a
(virtual) yellow card would suffice.
We
had several chances for a second goal. Phil, in particular, was combative, and
chased a through ball all the way to the area, shot, and was very unlucky when
the rebound from the keeper hit him but cannoned wide.
Then
came the incident about which our opponents were still
fuming at the end of the game. But they had no-one but themselves to blame.
Firstly their linesman: he does know the rules, but unfortunately, not the
version of them now in force. I ran onto a good pass from Phil, from well
onside. James, I’m told, was in an offside position beyond me, but nowhere near
the ball, and he certainly didn’t go for it (no point:
I would have pushed him aside). Up goes the linesman flag, and (second mistake)
every
But
the half-time talk was, rightly, about how we could do better: just play
football, was Peter’s request: trap, pass, move, and the goals will come.
A
strategy that we tried to implement, and as the game wore on (gosh: 45 minutes
is a lot longer than 40!) it was all happening a bit
more. But the defence was often stretched too: whilst
I can’t remember a serious attempt on goal (and their first corner came well
into the second half) Tony had to stay on his toes, and everyone was scrambling
in the heat.
So
there was a collective sigh of relief when, after about 70 minutes, James got
on the end of a good cross (free kick?) from Phil (again). James was under
heavy challenge from the keeper (who had redeemed his earlier error with some
really good catches), but kept his eye on the ball which went in off a
defender: 3-0.
There
was still more work to do to keep a clean sheet (six from last year, is the
standard to beat). But we made more chances, too: Dave seemed to have got the
ball over their line in a melee at one point, but it was hard for Ivan to see.
I made a chance by heading a cross from the right into space beyond a
defender’s left, so wrong-footing him. But the cunning plan had failed to
foresee that the ball would now be on my right foot, which is my wrong foot,
and a blast over the bar was the result.
Dave
took over the man-of-the-match tallying duties, as Ernie had rushed off
somewhere. Perhaps an accountant is the wrong person for the job, as decimal
points have never before featured in the result (which was so long in the
telling that there seemed a danger that dinner would be spoilt by the time we
got home). Matt was third for all the running and the early goal; James second:
ditto except the late goal. But Martin was man-of-the-match for stalwart
defending under pressure: another indication that the win was not as comfortable
as we would have wished.
So
it’s an odd table: all six possible point scores after two games. Five of the
fourteen games played have been drawn.
Thanks
to Ivan for reffing us, and to Scott for running the
line. Also to Willy for turning up to bring the shirts (which
we didn’t need) and to be linesman for the O35Bs (who turned out not to need
one). And to Howard for the beers.
MARK
BRYANT